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My Beloved Car - Original Writing

Decent Essays
I use to be invincible, or at least that is what I use to think. I was a teenager and up until that point I had been in a few accidents, but nothing as compared to the one on that March evening. That accident would not only take my beloved car, but would also alter my life.
One of my greatest possessions, was my ’94 Ford Mustang. Van Gogh, named for his mixed paint job, was red and grey with a clean body. When I got him he wasn’t running, but after a couple hundred dollars and a few new parts, my dad and I had him working like new. He wasn’t the prettiest or the fastest, but he was a product of our hard work. I would’ve never imagined that it would only take a few minutes for all that hard work to go to waste.
It was a night like any other, I was going fifty-five, traveling down the jet black highway. I was listening to the radio and focused on getting to my dad’s house before the evening grew any later. Normally the traffic is sparse and that night was no exception. In the distance I could see the flashing lights of a car in the emergency lane. As I approached, I decided that it would be safer moved into the lane furthest from the disabled vehicle, this decision would later turn out to be the best decision I could have made.
Before I could completely transition from one lane to another I felt a jolt, unlike anything I had ever felt before. In the blink of an eye my car came to a stop and my body erupted with pain. Dazed and disoriented, I sat still, glass spread across my
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